


the time to say i love you

by Jasperinnit



Series: surviving with you [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Clay needs a hug, Inspired by Sweet Home (TV), M/M, POV Multiple, Platonic Relationships, Relationship(s), Violence, george is clingy, kinda slow burn, pls don't hate me for killing off some characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasperinnit/pseuds/Jasperinnit
Summary: "And the universe said I love you-""..because you are love."George's brown eyes glowed. Dream knew the poem?"That line, it's always been my favorite." Dream admits, the once dull green eyes showing a glimpse of hope. A small shine George dreamed of returning to the man he wished to confess to, the man who is his only reason for living. The man he loved.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Floris | Fundy, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Series: surviving with you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189646
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Silent Love

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

George's heart is beating out of his chest. He's been gaming for seven hours straight, with few breaks to nibble on the granola bar beside him. It's been like this every day for a week. Wakeup, chug a water bottle, grab a granola bar, and game. He always overworks himself like this, pushing to get videos out or prepare for streams. This amount of screen time certainly isn't good for his eyes or health. Eating so little a day takes a toll on him in the end. His viewers noticed how tired he looks on stream, often telling the man to get some rest or take a break. George always refused, claiming to be 'perfectly fine.' He did this a lot, lie about things. George hated having others worry about him. He would care more for a stranger than himself.

George is sweaty, smelly, and looks like he could pass out at any moment. Finally, finally, he's done. George ended early today so, he had time to do something. For the first time this week, George has a meal. It's small, a grilled cheese with tomato and some chips. He eats like a pig, shoveling the food into his mouth with barely enough time to chew. George is satisfied, getting a quick shower and changing into a simple red hoodie with black jeans. The cold air hits him once opening the bathroom door. George prefers the cold, he always has. It would be better to freeze than sweat.

_'The mail came yesterday.'_

George grabs his apartment keys heading out. He lives in a shabby building on the fourth floor. It's alright. At least he didn't live beside the couple who did it till dawn. Usually, George would take the stairs to avoid conversation. Today is different.

He was there.

The dirty blonde, green-eyed boy, whose smile made George's heart skip a beat. The eyes of the brunette never left the blonde he's approaching until he saw something. A girl, one George has never seen before. They were holding hands, giggling to one another as they waited for the elevator.

George always assumes the man is single. Even so, he wouldn't take the chance to ask him out.  
He's never been good with his words, especially expressing a liking..or love to someone.

He hadn't noticed a thud until George snapped away from his thoughts, two pairs of eyes looking at him.

"You okay?" Oh god, his voice. It's angelic. George quickly gathers the keys he dropped and nods, briefly meeting eyes with the man before heading for the stairs.

"I hope he's alright, Clay." The girl spoke. Clay. It's a fitting name for the man. _'Is he even a man? He could be a god banished to earth'_ ; it would explain such beauty in a run-down place like this.

The man stuck in George's thoughts. ' _How old is he? How tall is he? Does he play video games too? ..Does he like men?'_  
The last thought George pondered. Usually, he could tell if someone went a certain way or both, but Clay is a different story.

A sigh left George's mouth, along with brief cursing. He made it downstairs, about to open his box when a loud BOOM made him jump. The people around him began to worry.

"What was that?"  
"Are we under attack?!"

George felt his phone buzz. It's an alert that everyone seems to receive.

_'Please remain calm. All citizens are to remain where they are. If you have experienced hallucinations, dizziness, nose bleeds, or a sudden rush of violence, please quarantine. If you have seen someone with the symptoms please quarantine them in a secure space. Citizens will be provided more information in the future'._

"What the hell.." George mutters, jumping back as the building goes on full lockdown. A group has gathered by the gates at the front door, peering outside in pure horror.

Creatures of all sizes outside, tearing people limb from limb. Crushing their heads against a concrete wall or biting it off completely.

George watches as a girl, around the age of fourteen, tries to make a run for the building. George is silently rooting for her, hoping she can make it.  
It looks like she'll make it..until an object impales through her stomach. It looks like a mouth, a long one at that. It lifts the girl off the ground, it must have been twenty feet. Screams fill the small crowd as they watch the little girl be torn about. The mouth somehow grew, until it ultimately causes the girl to split in half. Both halves of her body drop to the ground. George watches the crowd jump back, some wondering how something this awful could even been happening.

"Everyone get back!" A deep voice shouts. It's a pink-haired man, who, with the help of two other people, barricade the gated entrance. George takes a few steps back watching this all play out. It's too overwhelming. The pink-haired man, who he knew as Dave, began to try and calm everyone down.

George slips away returning to the fourth floor. He slowly passes by a room as someone bursts out, covered in scratches, blood, and sobbing. It's the man.

It's Clay.

His eyes were full of fear, regret, and sorrow. George's eyes widen as he got a good like at the blonde. "P...Please help me." He whispers. "I didn't mean to, it was just an accident.." His voice is full of pain. George slowly steps forward, wondering where the girl from before is.

(Clay/Dream's POV)

They heard the boom and the broadcast from their phones. Everything seemed fine between the both of them. Gaile and Clay had been together all day, and not once did either see any symptoms. They were going to stick it out in the apartment. They had plenty of food to eat and enough water to last at least a month. Gaile left to use the restroom, Dream now peering down at the horrifying beast below. It's been at least ten minutes. Dream began to get worried about Gaile. He has mild separation issues.

"Gaile? You okay?" Dream never got a response. What he did get is a sudden push to the ground. On top of him is Gaile... whose nose is profusely bleeding and getting all over him. She's croaking out and laughing maniacally.

"Gaile? What the hell are you-!" Clay is cut off when he's slammed against the wall, watching as the girl he loved began to morph into something..some impossible creature with long claws and big teeth. Clay grabs the thing nearest to him, a metal bat they used for security reasons. However, Clay can't fight Gaile off very well. Her long claws leave awful scratches on his chest and shoulders. Clay is losing blood but not fast. He drops the bat and decides to go for it.

"I don't want to hurt you!" He shouts, Gaile lunging at him again, forcing Clay to climb onto the couch. "Gaile, please!" With one switch move Gaile lunges again. This time Clay ducks and she flies straight through the window.

He's shaken, looking down to see what was once his girlfriend, now a monster lying motionless on the ground. That's when the realization hits him. Clay killed her. Gaile is dead because of him. The tears come and don't stop. He has to get out of this room. Running out he's greeted by that same odd boy from earlier. God, this had to be embarrassing.

"P...Please help me." He whispers. "I didn't mean to it was just an accident.." Clay rubs his eyes. The brunette remained silent. Maybe he didn't like speaking. "Sh-She attacked me, and..a-and.." He moves out of the way allowing the other to see the broken window.

(George's POV)

This man had been attacked. Not just by a monster, but his lover. It's clear as day to see that Clay had been traumatized

_'How the hell do you even help someone in this state?'_

"There's a group downstairs..someone can look at your cuts." Jeez, even trying to talk to the guy is hard. George leads Clay down the steps slowly. They didn't want to use the elevator just in case they got stuck. The group downstairs has grown.

To be honest, George barely knew anyone in the building. There are only a few people that live here anyway. It's a large building but in a bad area; no wonder people didn't live here long. Clay stuck beside George the whole way down.

The pink-haired man from before spots them, orderly a curly-haired man to help them. He's tall, with blue eyes and a warm smile. "Hey, we can take him from here. We found medical supplies in the office." The blue-eyed man takes Clay towards the office to help him with his wounds.

George's eyes peer around everyone. Out of them all, there's only one girl here. She has pink hair, but it's faded.

 _'I would have imagined there would be more girls here.'_ George thought.

"Alright, everyone listens up. From now on, if you want to go somewhere in the building, go in pairs." Dave orders. Everyone is obedient and nods. He seems to be a natural leader. Dave is calm, almost unbothered by the fact that they're in lockdown. George breathes out a deep sigh.

_'How the hell are we all going to get through this alive?'_  
  
  


The group spent the rest of that day setting up a base camp. It's inside a room beside the main lobby, big enough for the group. Each pair gathered different supplies. Some food, water, blankets, pillows, everything they needed. Dave kept charge along with the curly-haired man and another with a white streak in his hair.

Each person began introducing themselves to one another. The curly-haired man is Eret, and the one with the white streak is Fundy. Then there's Niki and Wilbur, who George mistook for being a couple. They were just roommates. 

A man named Phil is next, also introducing the three young boys he took care of, Tommy, Tobi, and Ranboo. They all looked between the ages of sixteen and eighteen.

There were others of course. A gay couple named Nick and Karl, two other roomies named Alex and Schlatt, another couple Zak and Darryl, and a man named Sam who also lived with Phil.

George is last to introduce himself. He's brief, just mumbling his name before getting back to work. Everyone seemed to be pretty friendly for now. 

Hours pass as George paces down an empty hallway. He's the only one awake besides Dave, who is patrolling. The reason George is awake is because of Clay. He hadn't seen the man since Eret took him to be treated.

_'A peek wouldn't kill you.'_

George makes his way to the office. He had to make sure Clay is alright. He pokes his head into the dim room, seeing that he indeed is okay and sleeping.

George began to stare. The man, no, this god-man..he had a one-way ticket straight to George's heart. George barely knew him, yet he felt this way. Maybe love at first sight truly is real. George went to leave, but soft weeps kept him.

Clay is crying in his sleep, weeping about a girl named Gaile. 'It must be his lover' George thought. He creeps closer, shutting the door behind him. His eyes never leave Clay, not even when he accidentally bumps into a table. George sits beside Clay, watching him cry. 

A hand reaches for the other's, and suddenly everything is quiet. George grips Clay's hand gently. He wouldn't dare do this if the man were awake, but..he looked like he needed comfort. And George was right. Clay did indeed need a shoulder to cry on, someone he could spill his feelings to.

Maybe, just maybe..George could be that person.

The glue, to keep this breaking man from falling completely apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!  
> this is my very first story so I hope you enjoyed this chapter (:  
> apologies if my grammar is a little off!  
> all feedback is appreciated, and thank you for reading   
> <3


	2. Endless Letters

The night felt like an eternity of darkness, filled with gut-wrenching, eerie roars of the creatures only yards away. It's impossible to think of anyone sleeping at a time like there, but there he is, peaceful in slumber. 

Clay, the god-man that made George's heart feel like it's on fire. 

Sitting beside Dream, minutes felt like hours, hours like days. The blonde's hand are calloused yet felt so soft against George's. He could stay like this until the world burns, but the brunette knew he couldn't explain what's happening if Clay awoke.

The shorter left the office feeling cold, the warmth of Clay's hand no longer with him. His eyes went to Dave, who sat alone by the barricades.

_'He's too calm for a situation like this.'_

The stare is met when the pink-haired man noticed George. "It's late, you know. You should sleep while you can." Dave spoke. The brunette gave him a look, not wanting to comply with their so-called 'leader.'

"I'm not tired." George lies, earning a chuckle from Dave. "I hear you from the third floor, screaming at whatever game you play. You're up late a lot, and those bags confirm it." The brunette gently touches his baggy eyes. "Even if that's true, it's hard to sleep when those things are crawling outside." Everyone indeed had a hard time trying to go to sleep with those things outside.

Before Dave could get another word in, George went off. Dave's eyes narrow, and he follows the brunette. "You can't leave the lobby without a partner," Dave calls quietly. "No one's going to wake up just to follow me around." George glances back at the pink-haired man. "So stop following me."

The man finally gave up and went back to his post. George enjoys the silence around him. He planned on going back to his apartment; he wanted to get some comfort items to bring downstairs. George makes his way, slowly at that, to his home. He passes the still open door Dream came out of sobbing.

_'Don't go in, do not go in...'_ George went in. How would Clay even know? He took careful steps around items on the ground. George's deep brown eyes spot the bedroom. He takes a deep breath before entering, a box under the bed catching his eye. 

Upon opening the box, George finds endless letters all addressed to Clay. 

George reaches the bottom one. It's still in the envelope, which he opens up. He scans each word carefully, wanting to know what Gaile wrote to Clay.

_'To my dearest Clay,_

_It's been so long since we last spoke. How have you been?_

_Everything here is going well, for now at least. I hope to come home and see you._

_I think your eyes are the thing I miss most, waking up to them every day. I have to be patient, though, and I'm doing my best!_

_It's hard not being with you every day, waking up to your kisses, or hearing your morning voice._

_If only the service were better, then we could call and see each other._

_God, life is hard here, especially without my beautiful boy._

_I think my boss said I'll be home in a month, so don't give up!_

_I love you so much, remember that every day my letters haven't arrived._

_They'll keep you company until I get back._

_With love, Gaile.'_

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

George felt a pang in his heart like a bagger stabbed straight through it. These words, such words he dreamed of telling the blonde, had already been said to him. The pain finally came out as George begins to sob, the letter crumbling in his grasp. Why couldn't it be him? Why couldn't he be the one to wake up next to Clay? To hear his morning voice or receive morning kisses? The boy he admired so felt like an expensive gem in a display case; untouchable.

Anger bubbles inside of George. Gaile is gone. Clay could forget about her. George stands up with the box in hand, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. A lighter he'd seen before he grabs and enters the bathroom. George lights the envelope on fire, watching it burn. He lets it fall from his hands and into the box. 

The once endless letters, now in flames, an evil smile glued to the culprit's face. 

The evidence is dumped into the toilet and flushed, the lighter smashed and thrown out. George returns to what he had come to do, grabbing the needed items from his room then returning downstairs. Dave is no longer there but replaced by Eret. His blue eyes meet the brunette, but he doesn't notice the drying tears on George's face.

George enters the room full of sleeping people, making his way to the corner. He uses the only free blanket and lays down, falling into a deep sleep.

_

(Clay's POV)

A firm shake woke the blonde up. Clay opens his eyes, seeing a man in front of him, Phil. "Hey, we're letting everyone go to their apartments and get personal things. You've been paired with George." He smiles then leaves. Clay sighs, running a hand through his hair. His cuts felt like nothing, but that's because he has a high pain tolerance. 

Clay met George out in the lobby. The guy looks a mess like he needed more sleep, but Clay doesn't mention it. They make their way upstairs in silence; this has to be the most awkward walk of Clay's life.

Eventually, he clears his throat, "Thanks for yesterday, by the way.." Clay grins. George gives him a confused glance. "Oh--for taking me downstairs to get help. I appreciate it." He could have sworn he saw George's cheeks pinken. 

"I don't think we've formally introduced ourselves. I'm Clay, but my nickname is Dream." He holds a hand out to the other politely. "George." An awkward handshake is exchanged. "Your accent makes you sound so proper." Clay attempts to make the other laugh, but he only gets a shrug. Silence falls between them again until they reach Clay's room. He's hesitant to go in, after all, it is the space where he killed his girlfriend. 

Clay's head hung low as he makes his way inside, picking up small things that would fit in his backpack. _'The letters'_ how could he forget? He bursts into the bedroom feeling a stare from George. Clay reaches under the bed but..they're not there? Panic began to set in once Clay realized the letters are not in their correct spot. He rummages through the small apartment, not being able to find any trace. "H-Hey, have you seen a small white box around here? It had some stuff in it I wanted." Clay turns to look at George, who shrugs. He curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair once again. "Maybe someone took it?" George chimes in, stepping forward. "It could have been used to start a fire." He shrugs. Clay's heart sank as he drops to the ground. Who would have been so stupid as to take a random box from his room? 'Those kids, the little bastards.'

In a few seconds, Clay is back downstairs with a wild look on his face. George followed at a slow pace, knowing the blame would not go to him. "Where are they?" Clay shouts. The only people in the lobby are Niki, Wilbur, Fundy, Tommy, and Tobi. 

Clay's eyes glow with rage. Niki, who George assumed must be a peacemaker, steps forward. "Is everything alright, Cl-" "No! Those little motherfuckers stole something valuable from me!" Clay cut her off, which took Niki aback. Tommy and Tobi share a look of confusion. What had they taken? They haven't been able to leave the lobby?

Then, it all happened so fast. Tommy is on the floor gasping for air, Clay above him, his hands wrapped around the boy's throat. Gasps and yelps come out while the others try and pry Clay off of Tommy, but nothing is working. "Clay, stop! You'll kill him!" Niki pleas, only to get a grunt in response. 

If it were not for Phil and Sam coming back early, Tommy might have been dead. A foot met Clay's face, followed by a kitchen knife placed to his neck. Phile rushes to Tommy to make sure he's alright. There's going to be marks on his neck later. "What the hell do you think you're doing, nearly killing a kid?!" Clay receives a harsh slap from Phil.

Niki steps in once again, "Phil, I know what he's doing is wrong, but maybe we should hear him out?" She suggests. "Hear him out? Yeah, let's hear the story for why this guy is strangling a sixteen-year-old!" Niki cowers back; she's only trying to help the situation. 

For once in this predicament, George steps in. "I know why he did it." All eyes are now on the brunette. He clears his throat, eyes meeting Clay's while he spoke. "We were getting some things out of his room when he noticed a box wasn't there anymore. He thought maybe one of the younger boys could have taken it to use for a fire." Phil glares back at Clay, eyes still full of hatred. "Is this true?" He asks. "It is, it was a box full of love letters it would be a good use for a fire." Finally, Clay is let go, but he's not off the hook. He has patrol for the next week. 

After Tommy is taken to get examined, Clay rushes over to George. "Thank you so much for vouching for me." He whispers. George looks away and nods, "It wasn't much, but yeah, sure." Clay smiles faintly. "It still hurts though, that they're gone." A sad smile forms on the blonde's face.

(George's POV)

Seeing the look on Clay's face made George's heart break in two. God, what had he done?

_

It's now six pm, and the group has gathered to eat. All is well before Clay enters the room, everyone falling into an awkward silence. George knew Clay could feel the unwantedness, giving him a sympathetic look. The blonde left the room to eat, and not long after, George joins him.

The two ate in silence, but this time it's not awkward. Eventually, George gets the courage to speak. "How long had you two been together?" His eyes met the blondes. Clay chuckles lowly, setting his fork down, "I knew her for about two years. We met when I graduated high school. I asked her out, thinking she'd say no but..she was happy I did." 

George looks down as Clay spoke. He did feel bad about burning the letters but, it also made him feel good. It would be easier to forget, hopefully. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here." George smiles faintly. Clay laughs, "We barely know each other, yet you're being so nice. Why is that?" He asks. George felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes, his hair, his smile, now his laugh? Could this man get any more perfect? He shook his head, "You just look like you need someone." He answers.

George hears Clay let out a sigh.

"How old are you, George?" 

"Twenty-three, and you?"

"Oh, I'm twenty-one. How long have you lived here?"

"A year, I think."

"Oh wow, I've only been here a few months. So, what do you like to do for fun?"

"I play a lot of video games, but that's it."

"Oh really? Like what?"

"Well, I was a streamer. I play Minecraft."

"Wow, that's pretty cool. I play Minecraft too, but I could use some practice."

_'We're getting along well'_ George thought. It's been a while since he could talk to someone with such ease. 

They spent an hour speaking about random things, even getting into an argument about the best mob in Minecraft. They had so much in common, George thought it would be easy to become fast friends. All this time, if he had just talked about a video game, they could have been talking. If only his nerves didn't get in the way, things would have been much better. Maybe, just maybe, he could have taken Clay away from Gaile. George began to imagine spending the night with Clay, being under him, completely helpless as the blonde did what he wanted. Leave George reckless, begging for more, with marks all over his body. 

Realization kicks in that George has spaced out for too long. He rubs the side of his neck and stands up.

"Do you start patrolling tonight?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think so. Can't be too hard. I got plenty of sleep yesterday."

"I can sit with you. I'm not much of a sleeper. Well, I just have trouble doing it really."

Clay grins and nods to the offer. "Yeah, it'll be nice to have a friend keeping me company."

_'Friend.'_

George had done it. He's become friends with the god-man, just like he hoped. Maybe, god hopefully, one day George could confess to Clay. Hold him, kiss him, let the blonde know how much he makes George's heart melt.

Would it be possible? Could George really catch a guy like Clay? The man whose smile made his knees week? 

It would be hard, but George wanted Clay.

No.

He _needed_ him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has read my story so far!  
> I really hope you're all enjoying it so far, I'm trying my best to make it interesting!  
> all feedback is greatly appreciated, and thank you to everyone who has already!  
> <3


	3. Drunken Mistake

A meeting had been held a week after the incident with Tommy. Due to not wanting to separate anyone, the only real punishment they could give to Dream is rationing his food, patrol the lobby for another week, and write a formal apology to Tommy. All of which Tommy agreed to. The boy did have bruises on his neck; shades of magenta, pink, and purple left discoloration against his porcelain skin. The event caused some rivalry between Clay and Tommy's guardians, who have been on edge ever since last week. They did feel as if the event could have been avoided. If only they had been there, the two could've easily stopped Clay. 

The week Clay had patrol, George was right by his side. They would talk for hours about anything; clothes, pets, childhood memories, what types of monsters could be outside. Sometimes, George thought this could be a dream. Speaking, even being so close to Clay. Could it all be real? 

This glowing, angelic man, whose voice could make George drop to his knees in an instant. 

George figured he's zoned out for a minute, maybe five. However, when he feels a hand on his shoulder, the brunette jolts up in surprise. Brown eyes meet gray, and he realizes Karl is the one who shook him. "Hey, sorry to disturb you, but have you see Nick? I can't find him anywhere, and I wanted to go back to our apartment." George only spoke to Karl once before, when the two were paired to go scout a hallway. "No, sorry, haven't seen him," George answers, receiving an annoyed sigh from Karl. The brunette would often watch the two and their interactions. They're a cute couple, always by each other's side and cuddling while asleep. It made him jealous that he couldn't have something like that.

A hand reaches out to Karl when the dirty blonde began to leave. The gray-eyed man turns back, "Is something wrong?" He asks. George hesitates and stands up. "I want to talk to you about something, but I would prefer somewhere more private." They walk into an empty hallway, Karl leaning against a wall. "So what is it you had to bring me down here to say?" He gives the brunette a confused look.

"You're gay, right?"

"Bisexual, but go on."

"How did you get Nick to like you? Did you flirt a lot or make the first move?"

"That's a bit forward to ask." A laugh escapes Karl's lips. "To be honest, we clicked. I met Nick at college when we got roomed together. We both felt at ease since we're both bi, and eventually, I started developing feelings."

"How did you know he liked you back?"

"I didn't for a while. I'm pretty oblivious when it comes to flirting, and Nick isn't very good with using his words. One day I went for it. We were at a party, dancing together, and I kissed him. I didn't think he'd kiss back, but here we are now." Karl grins while thinking of the memory.

"So you just..went for it? No second thought, no overthinking?"

"If I gave the situation a second thought, Nick and I wouldn't be together."

The way Karl put it made things seem so simple. This is the Dream we're talking about, a man that cannot be described by perfection. George beats his head gently against the wall; there's no way he could do this as easily as Karl had.

"I let you ask your questions, now, it's my turn. Why did you need to know all of this?"

The brunette's eyes went to his feet, finding them very interesting at the moment. Could he even answer that? 'Yeah, I'm fucking in love with the man who strangled a sixteen-year-old.' 

"I like someone, but I don't know if they like me back." 

"You could always ask."

"That's where you're wrong. It's not easy talking to someone who can make your whole body weak with just a smile."

"Then don't talk. Let your actions speak for you. Even if it's small things, they matter too."

The confidence in how Karl spoke helped, George thanking the blonde and leaving. Later on, he sees Karl has found Nick, and the two are going to their apartment. George exhales deeply once again. God, he wishes he could live with Clay. Technically he is now, but not the way George wants. Eyes roam until they land on another couple, one George has barely seen. Zak and Darryl, two men who kept to themselves. They seem like friendly people, but maybe they're scared. No one could blame them. George didn't want to talk to them; it's like he knew how the conversation would go. Who else is there to study? Wilbur and Niki are platonic soulmates more than anything, and they wouldn't be of help. Who?

"You've been standing there for a while." A voice spoke from behind the brunette. George spun around, seeing behind him is a man with a white streak in his hair. "Fundy, isn't it?" George took a small step back to widen their distance. "That's correct, and you're George. You live on the fourth floor, room 5D." It's a bit odd that Fundy knew so much, but it's disregarded when he held up a chart. "I made a map of everyone's rooms and the distance to them from the lobby."

"Still kind of creepy." George thought out loud, getting a look from Fundy. His face softens when the curly-hair man, Eret, comes and whispers something to him. 

"Are you two dating?"

They both froze but gathered themselves and nod. "Yes, we are, and we don't care if you think that's right or not." Fundy held Eret's hand confidently.

"Is there any way you could give me some tips on how to flirt with a guy who might not like you back yet?" Eyes full of hope, Eret, and Fundy look at each other and shrug.

"Just be yourself at all times. If you want to flirt, make it simple things. Whether that be a small touch or saying something, that usually gets the job done."

All of it sounds so simple, yet felt like it would be impossible. George found himself on the benches by the elevators, lost in thought again. _How would he do it? When would he do it?_

Dream lost his lover not too long ago, but would that stop George? It might cause hesitation, but Clay is a man worth fighting for.

_

The day felt short, and soon enough, it's dinner time. George can't complain since he's craving the soup Darryl, Ranboo, and Alex have been preparing for the past hour. His impatience is noticed by an amused Clay, who nudges George as he sat. 

"Smell's pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm starving. What we had yesterday wasn't that good, so I ended up giving the rest to Schlatt. Man can eat like a pig." George jokes, taking note of how close they are. 

"Really? I thought it was delicious. Too bad the meat got cold." Clay reclines on the bench beside the brunette. "You know, I heard Nick and Dave talking earlier. Apparently, they found a shit ton of booze in the basement." George perks up at the information. _'That would be an interesting situation, everyone getting drunk,'_ he thought.

Indeed booze was found, different brands of vodka and tequila. George hasn't had a drink since his college years when he went to a party almost every night, but he did that to hook up with some random guy.

After some protesting from Dave, Darryl, Phil, and Sam, they were out-voted, and the booze is set out.

God, that was a mistake.

_

George felt himself pressed up against a wall, holding Dream in his arms. "You should have told me you can't hold drinks well." He sighs, earning a giggle from Dream. "Alright, come on, we can sit here for a bit." Everyone else is in their own little world, either making out, dancing with no music, or passed out. 

George gently rests the taller on the ground, propping his head up. He notices tears streaming down Clay's face, figuring his emotions are heightened from the vodka. "I killed her..it's all my fault.." The blonde spoke, his voice breaking. The brunette cups his face, using his hoodie sleeve to wipe away Dream's tears. "You didn't kill her, Clay. The Gaile that fought you wasn't the girl you loved. It was a monster." Dream's green eyes met George's deep brown ones, unsure of what to say. "Clay, she had the virus. Hell, we barely know anything about it. The government hasn't said shit to us. There's nothing you could have done." It's the harsh truth, but Clay needed to hear it. George can't stand to see Clay cry, pulling the male into a hug. Clay almost immediately returns it.

Maybe a poem, or something soft spoke, could calm Clay down. Hell, the only poem George has memorized is the end poem. 'Shit here goes nothing.'

  
(skip the poem if you'd like!)

  
"Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.  
That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.  
I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.  
It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.  
That is how it chooses to imagine many things when it is deep in the dream of a game.  
Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.  
They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.  
What did this player dream?  
This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.  
Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?  
It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].  
It cannot read that thought.  
No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.  
Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?  
Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.  
But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.  
To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.  
Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.  
It reads our thoughts.  
Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.  
And yet they play the game.  
But it would be so easy to tell them...  
Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them from living.  
I will not tell the player how to live.  
The player is growing restless.  
I will tell the player a story.  
But not the truth.  
No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.  
Give it a body, again.  
Yes. Player...  
Use its name.  
Dream. Player of games.  
Good.  
Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel the air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in the air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.  
Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.  
We are the universe. We are everything you think, aren't we? You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.  
Once upon a time, there was a player.  
The player was you, Dream  
Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million Dkilometres away.  
Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do, and death was a temporary inconvenience.  
Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.  
Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.  
Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.  
Let's go back.  
The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.  
And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.  
And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.  
You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.  
Let's go further back.  
The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...  
Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".  
Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".  
Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.  
You are the player, reading words...  
Shush... Sometimes the player reads lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realized it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive  
You. You. You are alive.  
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees  
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again  
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream.

  
(pick up here for the rest of the story!)

  
And the universe said I love you-"

"..because you are love."

George's brown eyes glowed. Dream knew the poem?

  
"That line, it's always been my favorite." Dream admits, the once dull green eyes showing a glimpse of hope. A small shine George dreamed of returning to the man he wished to confess to, the man who is his only reason for living. The man he loved.

It was like time stopped, and the two of them were the only ones in the building.

Then it happened.

George pulled forward, connecting his lips with Clay's. A wave of shock washes over George, and he pulls away. Clay's eyes lock with the brunette's, his hands cupping George's pale skin. "Did you not like it?" George doesn't know how to answer. There's no way he could confess at a time like this. The kiss had to be a mistake. "Clay, you're not in your right state of mind-" "So you didn't like it?" He repeats. George can feel his face heating up, "No, god, of course, I liked it. I just...I want you to remember it." His hands find the taller's, holding them tightly. "Make me remember, then." Clay never broke his gaze from George. His mind might be fuzzy, but even from one small kiss, he knew he wanted more.

Before George could protest, their lips smashed together again. The brunette felt tingles rush from his lips through his whole body. 'This is it, George, this is what heaven feels like.' Could it get any better? Clay adjusts himself, pulling George closer which, the smaller complied to, wrapping his arms around the blonde's neck. Feeling Clay's hands squeeze his sides, he gasps, giving the blonde a chance to slip his tongue into the other's mouth, exploring the wet cavern it's broken in to. George melts at every cheek stroke or hip squeeze, oh how he wished this could go on forever. 

However, he knew it couldn't. Though George wants it to last longer, he knew a kiss like this could lead to something more. It doesn't help that he's in Clay's lap, too. Reluctantly, George pulls away. Both are panting messes, a string of saliva still connecting them. "We should stop here. You're still drunk, and I'm not letting you do something else you'll probably regret." George stood up, brushing his pants off then holding a hand out to Clay. He accepts and stands with the other. "I'm sure Dave will take patrol tonight. There's no way you can."

George and Clay enter the side room where they sleep. A lot of people are already in there. George spots Karl tucking in a passed out Nick, smiling at the other boy. The brunette lays Clay in the corner where he sleeps, fixing his pillow and pulling the blankets over him. Clay, being clingy, pulls George down to cuddle. It's not like George could tell him no. The two lay in silence, Clay the first to fall asleep. The smaller sighs, moving some hair out of his face. "You sure are cute when you're drunk." George places a kiss on his forehead before laying back down, eventually falling into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read so far, I really appreciate it. This chapter is longer than the rest but I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are appreciated, and thanks to everyone who already has! Can't wait to write the next chapter for you all <3


	4. Unfortunate Departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood, suicide

The morning is what George wished would never come. Morning meant everyone would wake up. Dream would wake up. Of course, George is the first to rise that morning, but he dare not move. Arms, tan, built, and veiny, are wrapped around the small frame of the shorter. George's breath caught in his throat. What would Clay think if he woke up to this? Would he even remember what happened last night?

Last night..

All the memories of drinking rush to the brunette's mind; he cursed under his breath, remembering the feeling of his lips crashing against the blonde's. A moment George would never forget but couldn't bear the embarrassment of remembering. George blamed Clay for his actions; it's hard to say no to someone with a face so beautiful as his. 

George is launched from his thoughts when stirring came from across the room. It's Dave, who among the smarter of the group, did not drink last night. He woke Phil up so they could most likely keep watch for the rest. 

The next two up are Niki and Will, who both went to scout for supplies. Will still looked pretty out of it, but he knew Niki could keep watch over the brunette.

George had been calm until he felt the blonde stir. The boy silently freaked out. What could he do? How the hell would he explain this?! 'Just pretend to sleep, you idiot.' Right. The brunette shut his eyes and slows his breathing to appear sleeping. 

_

Dream opened his eyes to a dark ceiling. He hadn't realized the pressure on his chest until he peered down, spotting a familiar brunette boy by his side. 'Shit, how did this happen?' Dream thought. Then it hit him.

Last night.

Clay could remember snippets of the events; the drinking, the crying, the poem---the kiss. 

He kissed George, and George kissed him back. 

Did he like George? There's no way. They had to be friends and friends only. Right? Maybe, just maybe, he could be wrong. George is a wonderful person. A kind and brutally honest friend who's there for Clay 24/7. He likes George, but not in that sense, at least that's what Clay thought. Is it even possible to like someone you've known for such little time?

Clay snaps from his thoughts when he feels George start to move. Is he awake? Had he been this whole time? Clay tenses up when their eyes met. George's deep, almost endless brown eyes, staring into his own. 

"Uh, morning." Clay clears his throat awkwardly. It looks like George is trying to think of how to explain this. Should he say he remembers? George might not talk to him after that, but after all, George kissed him back. "I remember if that's what you're trying to explain, George." George let out a sigh of relief before his expression turns frightened. "I tried to stop it, but I--" Both jolt when Dave slams the door open. Groans fill the room as the pink-haired man starts waking everyone up. George glances back to Clay before getting up, awkwardly offering him a hand. Clay gladly takes it standing with the brunette.

"Now that everyone is up, we need to get to work. Today we'll be scouting the basement and top floor. I'll be taking one group with Eret. Phil and Fundy will take the other."

The groups broke off. Techno and Eret's group consists of Ranboo, Tubbo, Zak, Darryl, George, Karl, and Alex. Schlatt, Niki, Wilbur, Tommy, Sam, Clay, and Nick, were with Phill and Fundy.

_

George hates the basement. He's walked by it twice, maybe, in the time he's lived here. It gave him bad vibes, like a dead body could be down there. Eret and Techno lead the group with flashlights. Why were they down here in the first place? The only thing the basement has, are the different systems for the building and a door leading out to the parking garage. Dave decided it's best to split their already small group. He, George, Alex, and Darryl would stay in the systems room. Eret and the rest will be scouting the parking garage. It is dangerous since it leads outside, but Dave assured everyone they would be safe. George's gaze went to Clay, who gave him a small smile and a thumbs up. Clay made everything feel so much better. 

The group of four spent an hour looking at useless things; books, boxes, and dust-coated machines. A sigh escapes George as he leans on the wall. It's boring without Clay around. He wonders if they're doing alright. However, his worrying ceases when he sees the door open.

Something isn't right.

Schlatt and Wilbur are carrying Eret, who looks to have a severe wound on his neck. Dave ran over, helping the two tall men. "What the hell happened?" Alex chimes in, walking over to Schlatt to hopefully get an explanation. "We'll explain when we get Eret into medical." 

The group locks the basement doors behind them, leaving Sam, Niki, Tommy, and Tubbo to make a barricade. They sit Eret on the bed, and god did he look bad. There's a huge chunk missing front the side of his neck. "Can someone please tell us what happened out there?" Alex shouts. "We were scouting, and Eret thought he saw something. Dumb fuck ran into one of those--one of those things! I can't describe it. It looked like a fuckin' shark with a human body, but it was freakishly muscular and fast." A frantic Schlatt attempts to explain. Alex pulls him off to the side to calm him down. 

It couldn't have been a worse time for the other group to arrive back. The commotion brought Phil and Fundy's attention. Tommy and Niki attempt to hide their gaze, but it's too late. "Eret!" Fundy screams, pushing past everyone, sliding to his boyfriend's side. George became overwhelmed and had to step out, rushing down a hall and sitting on the floor. Sure he saw someone die already, but this is worse. It's someone George knew. His breathing became heavy, and his body starts to shake. That could have easily been Clay instead of Eret. The image pops into his head, which didn't help.

George feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up, spotting Clay in front of him. The blonde expresses concern for George and sits next to him. "You okay?"

All George can do is shrug. How could anyone be okay in a situation like this? What George didn't expect is to be pulled into a tight hug, the taller rubbing circles on the small of his back. It felt more than amazing; George felt like he's on fire. Slowly the brunette wraps his arms around Clay, pulling the other close while he calms down. 

A loud cry broke the two apart. They quickly rush back to find everyone surrounding Fundy and Eret, only Eret is--

The male's once blue eyes have faded to gray, his skin getting paler by the minute. Fundy is beside his deceased lover, gripping his hand like Fundy's life depends on it. Dave turns to everyone, giving them a look that suggests they should all give Fundy some time alone. George leaves but first watches Niki walk over with a blanket for Fundy, laying it beside him. 

_

Several hours pass, but no one hears from Fundy. Dave sends Niki to go and check on him.

Within a few seconds, Niki runs back in with blood on her hands. She's freaking out trying to explain what she's witnessed. Wilbur takes Niki to the side and tells everyone else to go and check things out. Dave led the others to the medical room.

Everyone wished they never witnessed what they saw.

Fundy, on the ground next to the bed. His throat is slit the weapon is dropped beside him. A note next to him explains why he did it. Simply he could not live without Eret, and he knew he wouldn't want Eret to be alone in the afterlife. 

_

Fundy and Eret were buried in the green room the next morning. A small funeral is held, and everyone says a few words. Tubbo made origami flowers for each grave.

The morning is quiet. No one knew what to say and couldn't joke around at a time like this. 

Clay and George move away from the silence so they could take a walk. "Hey George, about last night-" "I get if you didn't like it. I didn't even ask if you were gay, o-or bisexual, or whatever sexuality you might be."

Clay chuckles, "It's fine, George, really. To be honest, I'm not sure about my sexual preference, but I know I liked the kiss." He stops walking and leans on the wall nearby. "Still..I'm not sure if I can do this right now. With Gaile I-" 

"Clay."

The blonde's eyes meet the brunette's. Clay could tell George is upset, but he's trying to hide it. "I can wait." He whispers. "I'll wait as long as I have to for you, Clay." George grips the taller's hand warmly. Clay lets out a shaky sigh. "I-I'm..that's just it. I feel ready, but she's holding me back. I-It's.." "You still love her, but you also like me." George helps him out, receiving a nod from Clay. "It's understandable, Clay, and I can wait till the day you're okay."

The blonde pulls George into his embrace, letting a few tears shed. George makes him feel safe. He wishes it can remain like this forever. He wants to be with George forever.

"Until death do us part."

"What was that?"

"Nothing really, George, just thinking out loud."

They let go of each other but stand there a few moments longer. They're interrupted when two people round the corner. It's Karl and Sapnap, who look determined to get away from everyone. As the two pass, George and Clay begin their slow walk back.

George would wait for him.

As long as Clay needed, George would wait.

Clay hoped that he wouldn't make George wait long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy everyone! so glad you made it to the end of the chapter (: did you guys have a good Valentine's Day? mine was super fun! anyways thank you all so much for reading. chapters might be a bit slow with school and all, but I plan to get the next one out as soon as possible! comments and kudos are always appreciated! thank you guys <3
> 
> oh also I was thinking of writing another story soon! it's going to be a royalty au so I'll hopefully have the first chapter up soon! don't worry I'll of course keep updating this too (:


	5. It Wasn't Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw! (panic attacks, violence, blood)

Three weeks felt more like years.

Clay and George were going steady. Getting over the loss of a lover is easier said than done. 

The thoughts were the worst part. 

"Clay, hey, it's alright." George held the blond in his arms. He doesn't know much about helping someone with a panic attack, but George figured it would be best to comfort Clay. 

The taller's breath quickened, his heart beating impossibly faster. It's not his first panic attack, but it's a bad one. He shook in the smaller's grasp, trying to breathe but finding it difficult.

George's words sound miles away like he's screaming from underwater. Clay wanted to hear the other's voice. No, he  _ needed _ to hear him. George's voice could always soothe Clay. When they slept, he would let George talk about anything. Listening to the brunet made him happy.

Clay couldn't feel George around him. He felt like he was floating in black water, thousands of miles away from anyone. Clay didn't feel in control, but he could still feel everything. His struggle to breathe, his sharp gasps as his lungs begged for air. The worst is his shaking. It felt like an earthquake, a violent one at that. 

George remembers something Karl showed him a while back. Really it's only used on children, but in Clay's state, George doubts he would mind. The brunet rests the other on the ground, cupping his cheeks. "Clay, I know it's hard right now, but I need you to try and focus on me." The blond's glossy green eyes manage to meet George's eyes. "I want you to do your best and copy me." George took a deep breath in, then exhaled lightly blowing on Clay's face. The other mimics his actions, but he's cut off by a hiccup and a cough. "It's okay Clay, we can try again. Okay? Do what I do." Clay can't hear George, but he could see out of his blurry vision that the other is taking deep breaths.

After several attempts, Clay is starting to take deep breaths. George never let his hands leave the blond's face. Clay's vision and hearing are becoming clearer. He can hear George, yet it's still muffled. Dream's arms wrap around George, pulling him close. The smell of George's shampoo fills Clay's nose.  _ He smells like heaven. _ Who knew such a simple scent could calm someone down. "G-George.." Clay sniffles. "Shh, shh..you don't need to apologize or explain yourself," George whispers, lifting them so they could sit. Clay pulls George into his lap, hugging him tightly like a teddy bear. 

George rubs Clay's sides, humming a tune his mother used to sing for him. 

"I'm sorry." Clay whispers, his arms not yet leaving the other's embrace. George stifles a laugh and shook his head. "You don't need to apologize."

Neither wants to pull away, but George does for the other's sake. He holds a hand out for the other, which Clay gladly takes. George doesn't expect the taller to wrap his arms around his waist. "Clay?" The brunet looks up, locking eyes with Clay. 

"I think I'm ready. I'm ready for us, George." 

Could he be dreaming? Did Clay want this? Now? "A-Are you sure?"  _ Hell, of course, he's sure! He had three fucking weeks to think about it!  _ "I'm positive." Clay leans down, pressing his lips quickly against George's. He's in utter shock that this is happening, but he kisses Clay back. "So..what does that make us?" The brunet asks. "Whatever you want us to be." George leans into Clay's touch as the other cups his cheek.

"You have no idea how happy I am right now." George laughs, hugging Clay and pecking his lips. "Oh really? Did you want me that badly?" The brunet lightly hits Clay on the chest, earning a small wheeze from the other. "Shut up. You have no idea what you're talking about." George turns away, crossing his arms. He's definitely not blushing... _ totally. _

_ "George.." _ Clay's voice made George's ears tingle. God, this man could ruin George in a heartbeat. The brunet glances back at the other, only to be spun around and pushed against the wall. His breath hitches when Clay moves closer, their lips grazing together. "Clay.." George looks up to meet the other's eyes. "Are you sure you want to continue with this?" George can't help but worry that they might be moving too fast. Clay lifts George's chin, "I'm okay with it if you are." George eagerly nods

_

They'd snuck off into a room far away from everyone else. To be short, they were pretty  _ busy  _ all night. George is the first to wake, his legs entangled with Clay's. He woke up happy for the first time in a while. Clay's eyes flutter open, meeting the gaze of the other. He grins, leaning forward and planting a gentle kiss on George's lips. "Goodmorning. How's your body?" The brunet felt tingles down his spine when Clay rubbed his back. "It's alright for now. I'm sure I'll start feeling the effects in a little." He chuckles.

The night before felt like heaven in such a broken world. The two felt as if all their problems were gone. That all they had to worry about was each other.

They lay in each other's embrace for a little while longer until commotion from the lobby got them up. As they enter, everyone is beginning to wake. Dave and Phil are already up and keeping watch. George gave Clay a quick peck and went to get his belongings. The small smile that George had from this morning never left his face.

_

Lunch came quicker than George wanted it to; the day felt short, and George hated it. He spent the day with Clay, doing daily chores for the lobby, such as cleaning up and organizing the food. The group sat in silence while eating their portioned food. George held Clay's hand under the table, giving it a tight squeeze every now and then. 

Their awkward silence is disrupted when a clanging came from outside. Dave is the first to check it out, Phile following, and a curious Tommy not far behind. The clanging is coming from the main doors, a dark shadow overtaking the beams coming from the sun. It's something straight out of a horror movie. A large creature, skin gray and looking decayed. Coursing black veins travel up and across the being's body. It had enormous muscles like the beast is piped up on steroids.

Not long after, the group slowly emerges from the room, creeping towards the front doors in fear. Clay instinctively pulls George behind him. The beast is motionless, apparently not seeing anyone inside.

Sadly, this doesn't last long.

"What the fu-!" Of course, of course, Tommy is the one to say something! In a quick flash, the beast bursts through the doors, nothing but rage in its eyes. The group quickly disperse, Clay dragging George along. However, George stops in his tracks. The monster, beast, whatever it is, it's headed in the direction of the kids. 

He doesn't like the younger ones, but George can't let them get hurt. He turns to Clay, mouthing something he couldn't understand. However, the blond realizes what it was when George let his hand go. 

_ I'm sorry. _

"GEORGE, NO!"

It was too late.

George chucked a chair at the thing, the furniture not even leaving a scratch on the beast. Its black, soulless eyes lock onto George, and in one swift movement, slam him into the concrete wall. 

_ What could he do? _

_ How can he help? _

Clay's mind panicked at the sight of George and the others. How would they get rid of this thing?! He had to do this, somehow, for George. "Hey bitch, over here!" Clay shouts, catching the attention of the beast.

He had a plan. It's not full-proof, but hell, anything would do at this point. Clay ran as the beast chased after him. He needed to get to the top floor. Adrenaline kicks in and Clay begins taking two, three steps at a time. He reaches the top, sliding out of the way just in time for the beast to crash into the wall. Clay knew where he was going. The top floor had a hall with a huge window at the end of it. There's space beside it, enough for Clay to slip in.

The adrenaline pumps through his body as Clay sped and barely turns the corner. There it was, the infamous window. His feet move at lightning speed, the beast following in pursuit. It reaches out for the blond, about to grab him when he darts to the side.

Clay watches the beast crash through the window. The blond landed on trash bags. It wasn't a pleasant landing, but he's alright. With no time to waste, he ran back downstairs, seeing that Phil and Dave have already barricaded the door back up. It's clear there's no fixing the door, so the group is forced to move further back towards the basement.

Clay could care less. The only thing he's worried about is George,  _ his  _ George. Niki and Wilbur came from a hallway in the back. Clay knew there was a break room down there. Judging by the amount of blood, George isn't doing good. "Can I see him?" The frantic blond asks. Niki gave him a sympathetic look. "He's not doing well. I suggest you make it quick." She whispers.  _ Not doing well? How bad can it be? _

Clay's head peeks in through the cracked door. There he was, a bruised and bleeding George. He's got makeshift stitches along his arm, and bandages wrapped around his head, bare chest, and part of his shoulder.

"Oh my god, George.." The brunet popped his head up when hearing the familiar voice. His eyes immediately glossed over. "Clay, I-" He had no time to explain himself before Clay pulls him into a hug. "O-Ow, arm.." The taller draws back, apologizing quickly. "God, why did you run at that thing?" By now, they're both crying, holding each other's hands tightly. 

"I'm sorry, I know it was stupid. I could stand there and watch a monster chase after kids. I had to do something." Each time George would could or hiccups, blood would gush from his stomach. There a gasp there, too big for the amount of stitching material they had. "Clay, I don't want to die," George whispers. "I-I know it's probably going to happen, but you just became mine. I-I...I don't wanna leave you in this world alone." His vision is blurring. The only thing George can see without a blur is his lover's face. 

"George, listen to me. You're not going to die. You'll be okay, I promise. Niki, I trust her. She'll take good care of you, and you'll be all better." George went to answer but could barely keep his head up at this point. "Cl-Clay, I have something to tell you.." His voice is soft and full of guilt. "It wasn't Tommy that burned those letters." The brunet can't help but sob louder, clinging to Clay's hand like his life depends on it. "I did it. I was jealous of her, jealous that you were hungover someone who wasn't here anymore. I wanted it to be me. I was so infatuated that it clouded whatever logic I could have had. I burned them, crushed the lighter, drowned the evidence." George felt Clay slowly lose grasp of his hand, but there's nothing he can do. His thoughts turn to black as he passes out, in timing with Niki and Wilbur returning. 

Clay's in shock. _ It was George? No, there's no way George would do something like that. But he wouldn't lie if he was on his death bed. _

Clay gets pushed out of the room by Niki, left alone with his thoughts.

It wasn't Tommy.

It was the man Clay now knew as his lover. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone thank you for reading this chapter
> 
> but heyyy we're halfway through the book!
> 
> I've been a little busy but I have a schedule finally planned out for this (:
> 
> anyways tysm for reading! I really hope you guys are enjoying as much as I am
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated as always <3 thank you to everyone who's left them!
> 
> until next chapter :D


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